


Friendship (means more to me than just fighting together)

by Nightalp



Series: fics born to tumblr [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Ice Cream, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 03:13:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9052939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightalp/pseuds/Nightalp
Summary: Sometimes you just assume that the other person knows how much you value them.Other times, you have to tell them.





	

One of the best ways to spend an evening, in Natasha’s opinion, was to send Captain America to the mat, then celebrate this with a big container full of cookie ice cream.

Luckily, between Clint’s addiction and Tony’s own binge-eating (not to mention how well it worked to calm Loki down from whatever rage Thor had send him into this time), they always stockpiled on it in the common floor kitchen’s freezer.

A soft ping announced the elevator reaching the right floor. It was late, midnight just around the corner, so Natasha wasn’t surprised to see the room shrouded in darkness when the doors slid open. Yet she still had an assassin’s senses, letting her see the dark figure sitting on the couch, just out of the reach of the moon’s silver fingers.

Tony, probably, judging by the bottle standing in front of him.

For a moment she considered turning back and leaving him to his solitude. But then this wasn’t the first time any of them had had a bad day, and maybe sharing ice cream with him - the same as he had done, more than once, when her own nightmares kept her awake - would help him battle the darkness.

Decided she walked over to the kitchen, intent on getting a pint of chocolate for them both. Personally, she liked cookie dough better, but, as she was learning, chocolate was a magical cure all on its own.

*Do you hate me?*

The words, said in a voice rough with emotions or burning alcohol or both, had her stop dead in her track. Frowning she turned to Tony, cursing the moon that showed her face yet hid his. *What are you talking about?*

Silence, only the air conditioner humming away somewhere above their heads.

Then the dark figure moved, and the part of Natasha that was a spy registered that he was keeping his hand still with the habit of a man used to being inebriated. The bottle neck chimed against a glass, then rather much liquid was being poured.

*You didn’t want me on the team.* For a man who had probably drunk half a bottle of Whiskey and then went on to sprout such nonsense he sounded rather sober. *You still against it?*

*I was never against your being an Avenger.* Slowly Natasha made her way over to the couch. If she had to have this conversation, whatever might have brought it up, she wanted to see Tony’s face.

A dark laugh stopped her. _*Iron Man - yes. Tony Stark - not recommended_.*

Natasha blinked. _That_ was what this was about?

*I don’t think we should talk about it while you’re drunk, Tony*, she tried to stop it. There were bad memories down that road, and for once, they weren’t hers. She didn’t think it would be good for Tony to delve in this particular topic right now, only to wake up to nightmares later in the night.

Yet her reasoning was met with another painful laugh and Tony taking a swig from his glass. *I don’t think I’ll have the courage to go into this when I’m sober again, and my psychotherapist says it would be better for me to talk about it, so I think we are stuck here.*

His doctor thought he should talk about this? Fury wouldn’t like it if he knew what Tony was talking with her about.

But then Fury also thought it was important for Tony to heal, and Natasha wasn’t reporting on Tony anymore anyway.

*Okay*, she said, the word still a bit foreign on her tongue. *Okay, Tony. Let’s talk about it.* She finally found the armchair and settled into it, her eyes still trained on the dark spot that was her team collegue and friend.

There was more silence, then another laugh from Tony, though this time the pain was coated in dark amusement. *Here I’m telling you I want to talk, and then I don’t even know what to say. Pathetic, isn’t it?*

No. Natasha had been there herself too often not to know how Tony felt. Had listened to too many psychotherapists telling her that it was okay that she didn’t knew what to say, that it was okay to need help even when it was only about knowing how to start.

*What do you-* Want to know? No. That didn’t sound right. How had her own doctor always handled this?

*When you heard director Fury tell you about my report, how did that make you feel?*

That should work, yes?

At least it got Tony to talk. *He didn’t.* Another painful laugh, another sip from his glass.

Natasha frowned. *He didn’t what?*

*He didn’t _tell_ me about it. He had me _read_ it. In one of his tiny little hide-outs in front of at least four of his agents. _Tony Stark not recommended_.*

There was so much pain in this last sentence that it took Natasha’s breath away.

Not that Tony noticed, for he went right on: *How was it? Self-distructive, volatile, narcissistic. Yeah, well, at leat the narcissism is right. Have to tell you, it was my greatest pleasure to-*

*I’m sorry.*

The words hung there in the silence between them, and Natasha thought that Tony must be as surprised as she was.

She never said sorry, never. Not really. It just wasn’t who she was.

And yet she had apologized. Not only that, but it had slipped from her tongue without her actually thinking it through. And still she knew that she would do it again and still mean it. It wasn’t easy to admit she had been wrong, but *It was never meant to hurt you.*

*What are you talking about?* Leave it to Tony to, even piss-drunk and engulfed by dark thoughts, pick up on any hidden meanings.

Biting her lip she considered what she was allowed to tell Tony. Some of these were SHIELD secrets, after all, and some were Fury’s.

And this was Tony, her _friend_ , and he was hurt so much because she had played along with some of their schemes.

Ignoring everything that she knew about safety arrangements she explained: *Tony, you are Howard Stark’s son. Even without you being a genius you would have been under observation from SHIELD - you were destined to inherit Stark industries and therefore SHIELD had to know whether they would still get their funding from you.*

*So you’ve been spying on me even before you infiltrated my company?* There was a bitter edge to Tony’s words and Natasha had to remind herself that Tony was like an injured animal, in pain and lashing out.

*Not _me_ , no. That’s not the kind of job they normally put their best spy to, even if it’s about Tony Stark.*

She could see the moment he realized it, could see the way he cocked his head the slightest bit as curiosity raised her head.

Answered the unspoken question: *I was given this mission by Director Fury personally after you came out as Iron Man and he started to consider you as more than an advisor for the team.*

*He … what do you mean, an advisor? I only learned of SHIELD during … after Stane.*

And sometimes Tony could be so blind. *You are, as far as we know, the single-most intelligent person on this whole planet, and you have all the resources of Stark Industries behind you. The only reason Fury hadn’t approached you before was that he hadn’t yet gotten the approval of the Council to even form the team. That, and Howard Stark’s will stating that if you were ever approached by SHIELD you and _only you_ would be allowed to decide over the further funding of SHIELD.*

She waited while Tony took this in. Obviously he had never considered that Fury might have wanted him on the team - even just in an advising role - even without the suit, just for his mind, his personality. Learning that it was so had to be … strange. Painful even, maybe.

She left him to it and stood up. If she really went through this … well, she could see why Tony didn’t want to do this sober.

She had only just pulled out the Vodka bottle when Tony asked: *Fury told you why he wanted you on this … on this mission?*

He had. Caught her alone after she just started being Natalie Rushman, speaking to her alone in a dingy little bar that served watered-down beer and shitty wine. And all this only because …

*At first, because he wanted a report he could trust. He had just learned that you could be an active team member, so he needed to know more about you. When you started to act out-of-control we quickly realized what was going on. Fury had the science department work on a fix for weeks, but the best they came up with was the silicium solution and the recommendation of using a new element. Which was when you went up against Vanko and Fury decided it was time to step in and send you Howard’s stuff.*

*Which should have been mine anyway.*

Natasha took a long drink from her glass. *Probably.*

They were silent again, but it seemed the alcohol made it more bearable. Taking the bottle and her glass Natasha made her way back to the armchair.

*You still haven’t told me why … well-*

*Why I wrote what I did?* Now it was Natasha’s turn to laugh bitterly. *Simply put, because you had just almost died and neither of us wanted you to have to fight again so soon.*

*What?* The vehemence of Tony’s response startled her until he followed it up with: *There were more fights?*

Oh. *There are always fights.* But that wasn’t what Tony wanted to know. Exhaling hard she explained: *Until Loki’s invasion Fury had to fight the WSC tooth and nail just to be allowed to observe any potential members, and that was probably only because they were also threats that needed to be watched. So after the desaster with the Expo, when you had just found happiness with Pepper and stepped down as CEO, leaving you free to find a moment of peace - Fury didn’t want to destroy that chance for you.*

*So you wrote a report that would be sound on the surface and allow him to not hire me for the Initiative.* There was a strange note in Tony’s voice.

Natasha nodded. *I’m not sure why he even let you on as an advisor, he wanted you to be completely free. Anyway …* She swallowed, hesitated, then went on: *I really didn’t want to hurt you, Tony. You are one of my best friends, one of the most courageous and nicest men that I ever had the fortune to meet, and if I had known how much this would hurt you - _di_ _d_ hurt you … I would have told you, Tony. I’m sorry, it seems I’m not such a good human reader as I thought.*

Tony laughed a bit. It sounded … freeer, happier, than his earlier laughs. *Well, or I’m just that good at hiding. And you don’t have to butter me up, okay? It’s alright if I know that …. that you are my friend.*

That wasn’t how he had wanted to end the sentence, yet something else caught Natasha’s attention more. *What do you mean, butter you up?*

A tiny movement, then Tony waved his hand, moonlight catching in the glass. *Well, you know. Me being courageous and all that … we both know that’s bullsh-*

That … okay, that was too much for Natasha to deal with in one night. *Tony, stop right there. Look, I’m … actually, I’m tired, and I’m not the right person to tell you this, so I’m only going to say ths once and then I’m going to get a big container of ice cream and drown myself in it, yes?*

Tony moved again, and this time she could see the moonlight reflecting off his wide open eyes.

*Do you remember when we met for the first time? I’m a professional spy, I’m good at what I’m doing, and I was supposed to be in your bed as soon as you met me. Instead you looked right through the shallow surface, even if you didn’t knew what lay beneath it, and then _still_ allowed me to keep my secrets, as if I were just another human trying to hide from some painful past. That … Tony, that was one of the most decend things people have ever done for me, and coming from _you_ who had more reasons to fear secrets than most others … taking that leap of faith takes courage, Tony. I would know, I’ve done it myself. And that doesn’t even take into account all that you have done since, both on the battle field and off, with your charities and your willingness to open your home and heart for us.*

There was a sound coming from Tony, like a cut-off sob, and Natasha decided they both had had enough of this.

*You are one of the best humans I ever met, Tony, no matter what anyone else says. And I think that if we continue pouring our hearts to each other I’m going to be either suicidal or homicidal by the end of it, so let’s stop here. Would you like to have some ice cream with me?*

It took Tony a moment to answer. *I … if you are okay with me looking a bit … watery right now, sure.*

*Just try to not get anything into the containers*, she warned and grinned, pleased, when Tony laughed again, the sound surprised and happy and one of the best she had ever heard.

*I’ll try to*, he said and followed her into the kitchen.

Natasha didn’t mention the redness around his eyes when she opened the freezer, and in turn he didn’t comment when she pulled the blankets and pillows from the couch to improvise a pillow fort on the floor.

Really, eating ice cream on the floor, with her friend leaning warm against her shoulder and occasionally stealing her cookie ice cream, was definitely the best way to end a day.


End file.
